What Peace You May Find
by misanoe
Summary: *New chapter; Helms Deep* These are my take on deleted scenes between Aragorn and Eowyn that take place during the movie.
1. chapter 1

Author's random notes: This fanfic was written in the spur of the moment after I watched The Two Towers for the second time. I finished it at nine am and didn't proofread it, so it may suck. When I read the book I shipped Aragorn and Eowyn. Although, I have nothing against Arwen, she was in less then one paragraph in the first two books of LOTR, and a bit of the ending of The Return of the King. By the time I reached her in the book, I was a stalwart A/E shipper. I realize there are discrepancies in this fanfic from the book and movie. However, let me remind you it is nine am and I have yet to sleep, so I care little.  
  
What Peace You May Find  
  
written by: misanoe  
  
*****  
  
"It is peaceful here."  
  
She recognized his voice instantly. Standing alone in the desolate courtyard, she had slipped out of the lively banquet earlier, in an attempt to find solitude and respite from the piercing gaze of Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He troubled her, his noble bearing; dark thoughtful eyes delving deeply into her soul, making her feel pitifully exposed. Standing beneath the shades of the towering walls, she stepped out of the shadows to greet him.  
  
"The bright lights become too harsh for my eyes." She replied coolly, her shoulders tight with tension. Standing before him, her figure was bathed in the gentle light of the moon, highlighting her stark white gown with an unearthly glow, and Aragorn understood why she was often spoken of as the white lady of Rohan.  
  
"Do you often seek solitude small abandoned corners?" He asked cautiously, gently prodding her into conversation.  
  
"As often as I might. It is free from the daily clamor of the palace, a place of my own away from this kingdom and my title." A flash of bitterness streaked across her face. "As the only female of this household, I would be kept here as an ornament, my sole purpose to adorn these castle walls until it is my time to be passed on in a marriage of convenience, a tool to create good will between two kingdoms."  
  
"Marriage between royal families is a common practice in unifying kingdoms." Aragorn replied, his impassive face giving none of his thoughts away.  
  
"Yet this would not be the fate I wish upon myself." She answered evenly, lifting her head up in defiance, of age old custom and traditions.  
  
"Nor I." He replied solemnly, pitying the fate bestowed upon such a free spirit.  
  
Looking up at him in surprise, Eowyn faltered when she met the attentive eyes of Aragorn. As a distraction, she turned her head quickly to cover her hesitation, bending down to pick up a sword hidden in a small dark chest under a stone bench. Standing tall, she drew the blade, her hand gripped around the sparsely decorated handle. The bright medal gleamed dangerously in the moonlight.  
  
Twirling it skillfully in her right hand, she slashed at the air before her, stopping an inch away from Aragorn's throat. "Often I train here away from the disapproving eyes of the kingdom. I would be a shield maiden if not a member of the house of Theoden."  
  
"You have skill," he spoke, remaining still in the mercy of Eowyn's blade. "It is not often females of a royal household are trained with the sword."  
  
Backing away a step, Eowyn let her sword hand drop limply to her side. Sorrowfully she replaced the delicate blade into it's sturdy leather scabbard. "Theodred, my cousin, saw me as no other. From youth he treated me as an equal," a hint of a smile lingered in her wistful voice. "It is he who had my sword made and trained me to wield it."  
  
"It is a finely crafted sword." Aragorn answered, watching Ewoyn replace the sword in it's hiding place.  
  
Nodding quietly, Eowyn knelt next to her prized possession. "It is the first time I have handled it since his death."  
  
Standing silently behind her, Aragorn gave her a moment to grieve.  
  
"It pains you to speak of him."  
  
"The wound his death left in my soul is sharp and fresh. It pains me greatly." Looking down at her palms, she grasped her hands tightly together. "Had he lived, we would have been wed," she confessed.  
  
Looking at her in surprise at the unexpected information, Aragorn could not help but wonder what manner of a man Theodred had been; and further still, what he had meant to his cousin, Eowyn.  
  
"I did not love him as a wife loves a husband, yet love him I did." She continued in Aragorn's silence, standing up to face him. "And he, I. He did not wish to see me trapped in a gilded cage."  
  
"A fortnight before his death," her mouth tripped slightly over the word and she paused to take a deep calming breath. "We spoke in this same spot. He respected me too much to see me wed to a brute of a man that would see me naught but for my beauty. And he loved me too much to let me wilt as a lily deprived of the sun if it was in his power to prevent it."  
  
"He swore to make you his queen." Aragorn finished.  
  
Nodding, Eowyn looked at Aragorn in defeat. "Theodred would sacrifice love to see me well. He was good to me." Despair flooded through her veins and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "He has forsaken me." Forcing a painful smile, she turned towards the castle. "I do not know why I speak of this. I have told no man of Theodred. Not even the closest of my kin, my brother whom I hold dearest above all."  
  
"You have suffered in your silence." Aragorn replied. "You need not carry this burden alone."  
  
"My lord, I do not ask you to share my burdens." She replied proudly, her cheeks smarting with indignation. "They are my own. I deal with them as I may."  
  
"I ask for your pardon. I did not mean to offend."  
  
"I take no offense." Looking up at the midnight sky, she turned to Aragorn to bid him a hasty leave. "It is late. I wish you a good night."  
  
"And to you my lady." He replied with a small bow. In a flurry of white silk, Eowyn turned to leave Aragorn, her golden hair rippling like fiery waves down her back as she strode away.  
  
"Eowyn of Rohan," he called out after her, waiting for her to pause and turn slightly before continuing. "Why do you choose me to speak of Theodred?"  
  
Eowyn stared at him with a wisdom well beyond one of her years, a sad smile enduring on her cold face.  
  
"There is a bit of Theodred in you." She replied. "Your eyes, they see me as he once did, and the same question lies plainly in your gaze."  
  
"Do not wish to save me Aragorn," she professed, "there is naught of worth to save."  
  
Aragorn watched Eowyn retreat into the heavily lit hall. Standing alone in the dark where she left him, his troubled thoughts continued to plague him long after her departure. 


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2: Helms Deep  
  
written by: misanoe  
  
*****  
  
And death fell to al that saw the Lady of Rohan.  
  
"He has fallen."  
  
Eowyn stood in front of the sorrowful dwarf, Gimili, in shock. Searching for reason in the madness of his words, she lifted her head to meet the pitying gaze of her uncle, Theoden, and his face betrayed him.  
  
Was she to be pitied then, she idly wondered, unable to comprehend the death of such a man. We were neither lovers nor old friends, and yet the pain of Gimili's words struck deep and true. Numb, she backed away from the clamoring crowd before her, and only few saw the young, grief stricken maiden flee from the fort's courtyard.  
  
Finding solitude in the small backroom that held the King's armor, Eowyn mourned. To loose too much in so little time, her heart would break and she longed for her brother's safe return. Would he only survive, she might be saved from the complete despair that threatened to swallow her whole.  
  
Sitting alone in the deadly silence, their last moments together came to mind, flooding her body with emotions she could not control. "If I were a male I would fight to avenge his death, and yet even that I cannot do." She whispered in the faint light, angry tears spilling silently down her pale face.  
  
*****  
  
The orcs would come swift and strong. Craning his head, he searched for Lady Eowyn, a troubled frown creasing his forehead as he pulled the reins of his horse to catch one last glance. Alone she stood, apprehension written clearly in her face. Their eyes met and Aragorn knew he could not let the orcs pass. As long as he drew breath, no harm would befall her. And he paused only long enough to imprint the image of Eowyn in his heart, before riding off to battle.  
  
*****  
  
Images flooded in Aragorn's consciousness as he floated limply down the stilling water. His body jerked abruptly, led into sturdy ground. The sun beat strenuously on his lifeless form, gentle waves lapping against his side. Unaware of all around him, Aragorn dreamt, and Arwen was as beautiful as the moon, flawless as the clearest night sky.  
  
Then there stood Eowyn, fierce and vibrant like the many hues of dawn.  
  
*****  
  
He lived. Eowyn lost her breath as she caught sight of Aragorn, bedraggled and weary, greeting the elf, Legolas. Across the courtyard, one thought ran through her mind; she must go to him. It was then the elf offered Aragorn a familiar silver pendant glittering harshly in the sun, reminding her once more he belonged to another.  
  
Frozen, emotions raged in her slim body. She was torn, unable to force her gaze away from his figure and her glinting jewel that cut sharper then any sword.  
  
She would be glad. For though his heart may lay elsewhere, he lived. And through her unshed tears, she smiled.  
  
*****  
  
In a small dark recess of one of the many caves, there, Aragorn found Eowyn sharpening her sword. Barely visible from the dim light of the single candle, Aragorn studied her forbidding profile.  
  
"I know why you seek me. You would ask me to stay with the other women." She spoke without looking up from her work, aware of his company long before she spoke.  
  
"I would." He answered without hesitation.  
  
"There are children and men that will fight, less skilled with the sword then I." She ran her flint steadily against the long side of her blade. "I will fight, slay as many foes as I might."  
  
Crouching down beside her, Aragorn placed his left hand above hers, halting her movement. "Do not seek death my lady."  
  
Looking up in earnest, Ewoyn spoke. "I do not fear death my lord."  
  
"I cannot fight and fear for your safety lady."  
  
"I do not wish for your fear; nor, do I ask for your protection. I only wish to fight with my fellow country man. What use is a sword if I do not wield it?" She asked, trying to move him with reason.  
  
"These men fight for the safety of their home and hearth, for their families and future. The safety of their wives will give them hope. And with that hope, they will fight with all their might to protect that which they hold sacred."  
  
"I have no husband save for my sword."  
  
"Your wellbeing gives me strength." Lifting his hand to cup her cheek, his eyes drilled into hers. "I do not wish to argue. You are needed here; the women depend on your strength to guide them."  
  
"Your words do not console me. There is little good I may do them trapped here, then I might do with my sword," grasping his hand with her own, her eyes sought his. "Yet I will do as you ask, though my heart will be on the battlefield beside you." Silent with her admission of defeat, she could not contain the words that next exploded from her lips. "I would rather die a noble death then cower here in this bleak hole with little hope of meeting you again."  
  
"Put your faith in me Eowyn, we will meet again." Aragorn vowed.  
  
"I will hold you to your word Aragorn, son of Arathorn."  
  
*****  
  
With the rest of the females and younger children, Eowyn did as much as she might to prepare the soldiers. And when the strength of the sun waned, swallowed by darkness, Eowyn herded the woman and children through the thick doors of the entrance to the caves of Helms Deep.  
  
The last of the women, Eowyn turned to catch one last glimpse of the preparations for battle before stepping into the refuge. Craning her head, she sought the distant figure of Aragorn. Staring intently back at her, he flicked his fingers and saluted her.  
  
The soldiers began to shut the heavy door and Eowyn clenched her fingers, her nails digging deeply into her palm to stop the curious burning sensation poking at her beneath her eyelids. Her eyes locked on Aragorn's through the narrowing passage that would shut her away from him till Rohan claimed victory or defeat.  
  
The door banged shut with a deafening thud that left a large lump in her throat, and one whisper was heard in the sudden darkness.  
  
"By whatever power there may be, let those I love return to me."  
  
*****  
  
Doors opened wide and those that had been locked in the cave blinked hard at the brief blindness that comes with the sudden rush of brightness after much darkness.  
  
The woman and children streamed out of the cave, greeted by the silent crowd of their surviving men. Amidst the joyful clamors of reuniting families and the grief stricken wails of those that had been less fortunate, Eowyn desperately sought the face of Aragorn.  
  
A soldier walked past her, blocking her view for but a moment then revealing Aragorn. Across the bloody courtyard he was weary and grim. Caked in mud with hair stringy from rain and dirt, he stood proud, and in her eyes more noble then ever she beheld him.  
  
Quickly pushing her way through the crowds towards him, his dark eyes searched out the crowd, his haggard features softening at the sight of Eowyn.  
  
In the matter of seconds, she stood before him, a broad smile lighting up her face. Pressing both palms to his cheeks, she threw herself in his arms. Her eyes shut in his embrace and she held to him dearly.  
  
"You are well. You are safe." He heard her murmur into his shoulder.  
  
Breaking free of his embrace, Eowyn took a small step back to scrutinize him. Scanning his figure, she reassured herself he was truly uninjured, eyes misted with the pain and joy of his loss and return.  
  
And Aragorn too, took this time to study her. There were dark streaks of dirt on her chin that rested against his grimy, battered jacket. Her hair was untamed and whipping about her face wildly in the strong winds of early dawn; vivid blue eyes flashing up at him with gladness, he thought her very beautiful.  
  
Lifting his hand to her face, his fingers rested against her jaw bone, thumb brushing tenderly against a dark smudge on her chin.  
  
"As I vowed." Still, they drew comfort from the other, and no more was said. 


End file.
